Good Boy
by Domomomo
Summary: If Russia was gentle, sweet to him and ONLY him, Latvia would be his puppy. Russia/Latvia.


_OH MY GOD, MY FIRST GAY PORN STORY. Well, my first COMPLETE gay porn. This story features pup play, which is is a type of animal roleplay associated with BDSM. I learned about it yesterday on a request on the kink meme (what this was written for, incidentally), so I just HAD to write it! It was my destiny. Also, heads up, **THIS STORY STARTS OFF AS NON-CON**. Important info right there. So, without further ado, enjoy and review! _

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It was with much trepidation that Latvia found himself outside Russia's bedroom. He had no idea what was waiting for him on the other side of the door and didn't want to know, but when Russia told him earlier to come to his room _alone_, the only option he had was to stutter a "_Y-Yes, Mr. Russia…_" and pray that he'd make it out of the ordeal alive. His entire body felt like jello, and it was with a shaking hand that he knocked on the door. The sound echoed too loudly in his ears, and his dread manifested itself in the form of little tears gathering at the corners of his eyes. Taking a shuddering breath, Latvia called out uncertainly, "M-M-Mr. Russia, sir?"

"Come in."

There was no turning back now, no feigned forgetfulness, no chance to jump the border and disguise himself as a human in a distant country and be in hiding for the rest of his existence. He'd sealed his fate, and there was no direction to go but forward. He fumbled with the doorknob several times before managing to get the door open, slipping into the room with his gaze fixed on the floor.

A glint of silver caught his eye, and he turned his attention to a dog bowl sitting a short distance away.

"Are… Are you getting a d-dog, Mr. Russia?"

Russia gave him a rather ambiguous smile before replying, "_Da_. A puppy, actually."

"Oh, h-how cute!" Latvia couldn't help but grin a little bit as he imagined a puppy running up and down the halls of Russia's house, big innocent eyes and tongue perpetually hanging out of its mouth. "What breed are you thinking of getting?"

"Latvian."

It was in that moment that Latvia's heart almost ceased beating. "P-Pa-Pardon?"

Russia rose to his feet languidly, picking up a circular black object Latvia hadn't noticed until now. He walked toward Latvia, smile betraying nothing, and held up the item for Latvia to see.

A black leather collar.

"I said," Russia began, words whispered directly into Latvia's ear, "my puppy will be Latvian."

Even with his eyes squeezed shut Latvia saw the collar, image burned into his mind as he felt the padded – padded, he noted absently, Russia wasn't trying to hurt him – leather encase his neck, soft and an almost perfect fit. A light jingle reached Latvia's ears, eyes opening to find the source of the sound. He craned his head downward and saw there was a golden dog tag attached to the collar, embossed with a single word: _Латвия_. Latvia. This collar was for him and him only.

He turned his gaze onto Russia to find that he was scrutinizing him as well, a look of utmost concentration on his features. Latvia hadn't realized he had been staring at Russia so intently until he felt Russia's cold fingers begin to slide the first button of his shirt out of its hole, moving his hand to the next one to repeat the process. Latvia began to shiver anew, tears swelling as he choked out, "Mr. Russia, p-please don't…" Russia ignored Latvia's feeble protests, slowly unbuttoning his shirt until it was completely undone, sliding it off the boy's shoulders and leaving his upper half bare. "Pl-lease, sir…"

"Why don't you take the rest of your clothes off yourself? Could you do that, little Latvia?" Latvia forced himself to nod, seating himself on the floor and commencing the embarrassing task of stripping away his pants. He could feel Russia's scorching stare fixed on him as his shaking hands faltered with the zipper, finally sliding his trousers down and off. He felt so powerless without the layers of clothing hiding his scrawny figure, and after a heavy moment passed Latvia realized he was to take off his undergarments as well. Sniffling loudly, Latvia pulled down his briefs at a slow pace, hoping that the frightened noise would somehow make Russia realize that this wasn't okay, that it would prompt Russia to call the whole whatever-this-was off. Russia did no such thing, only waited patiently for Latvia to remove them. Once they were off Latvia rubbed at his eyes with a palm, brushing the tears away as he glanced fearfully at Russia. Russia's grin widened as he moved toward Latvia, terrifying him and causing a new wave of shudders to pass through him. He clenched his eyes shut, not wanting to see Russia when he raised a hand to clout Latvia with. But the hit never came. Instead, Latvia felt a large hand ruffling his hair. "Good boy, Latvia. Good boy. Now let's fix your paws, _da_?"

Latvia fought the urge to scoot away when Russia knelt down beside him, holding what seemed to be a pair of leather mittens. He took one of Latvia's small hands into his own, slipping it into one of the black mittens and buckling it, repeating the process with its twin. Latvia examined his gloved hands in wonder, worry welling up as it struck him that he wouldn't be able to remove them without Russia's help. His fingers and thumbs were held captive in the mitts, unable to move or grab. They were almost completely useless, and he realized that they were indeed paws. The only thing he was able to do with them was support himself. "Now your ears." Russia presented Latvia with a headband sporting a pair of black dog ears, the same type of leather the mittens were made of. He slid the headband onto Latvia's head, shifting his hair a bit with his fingers so that the ears looked a bit more natural. He continued to pet Latvia soothingly, relaxing him enough that he did not notice Russia reach to the table to grab another item.

The clinking of metal startled Latvia from his calm, eyes widening in fear when he spotted leather straps and chains. His breathing sped up immediately and he clambered away, backing himself into a corner as he cried, "N-No, Mr. Russia, please, please don't!"

Russia's eyes narrowed in irritation as he crawled over to Latvia, voice low and threatening as he commanded, "Do not fight me, Latvia. This does not have to be difficult. Do as your master says." He took Latvia's flaccid cock in hand, running his calloused thumb slowly up and down. Latvia shrieked and writhed, doing his best to get away from Russia, but to no avail. Russia continued to stroke him, movements slow and purposeful, and despite his terror Latvia began to harden. It wasn't long before Latvia's frightened whimpers became tinted with pleasure, cheeks flushed and glistening with tears as Russia pumped him. When Russia deemed him hard enough he picked up the restraints again, unbuckling the smallest one and wrapping it around the base of Latvia's cock. Latvia squealed in fear and slight arousal, pawing at Russia in a desperate attempt to make him stop. The pressure against his balls and erection was completely new, and it was painful, but it was secured around his cock and there was nothing he could do about it. The sensation left Latvia feeling weak, so weak he didn't even bother struggling as Russia attached the rest of the restraints to his wrists and ankles. A gentle kiss was pressed to his forehead, then lips. "Good boy," Russia soothed, thumb wiping away the tears still trailing down his cheeks. "You're a very good boy, letting me put all of those on. Good boy."

Latvia released a shuddering breath, somehow calmed by the words. The cock ring hurt, very much so, but he realized belatedly that Russia was trying to be gentle with him. _Gentle_. Russia could have easily thrown him down on the floor, choked him with the collar, and attached all the restraints so tight they bit into his skin and drew blood, but he _didn't_. He did it slowly and with as little force as a giant like he could manage, and praised Latvia when it was over, despite his struggles. Latvia was afraid, so afraid, but at the same time he was placated by Russia's attempts at kindness. Russia, the harsh and cruel monster that the world knew him as, was being gentle with him. Latvia. Only Latvia. With shy hesitance, Latvia nuzzled Russia's cheek, following up with a small lick. If Russia was gentle, sweet to him and _only_ him, Latvia would be his puppy.

Smiling once again, Russia scratched behind Latvia's ear, kissing his forehead again before standing up. Latvia tried to follow suit, crying out in pain when the chains tugged at his cock ring. Russia chuckled. "Puppies must be staying on the floor. But it looks like something is missing…" Russia studied Latvia, realization lighting in his eyes as he exclaimed, "Right! We need a little tail for my little Latvia, don't we?" He headed to the table on the other side of the room, Latvia trailing after him and taking caution to not yank the chains. Rising to his knees, Latvia looked over the edge of the table curiously, spotting a fake tail with a bulb-like object at the end. Russia picked up the tail, a small bottle of lotion in the other hand and sat down in front of Latvia. "Sit on my lap."

Latvia carefully situated himself on Russia, legs spread and knees placed on either side of him, chests pressed together and his paws perched on Russia's shoulders. He twisted his head around and saw Russia coating a few of the fingers on his right hand with lotion, from the tip to the 'v' in between. A wave of anxiety hit him when he realized exactly where those fingers and tail were going to go, but before so much as a syllable could leave his lips Russia's index finger was pushing through the ring of muscle, wiggling and attempting to create space. Latvia whined pitifully at the intrusion, knowing that there was nothing that could lessen the pain. Russia's hands were large, his fingers thick and long. He heaved a sigh of relief when Russia withdrew his finger, letting out a sharp cry when two digits slid in. He couldn't stop the tears that flowed or the sobs that emerged, burying his face in Russia's chest as the man tenderly scissored his fingers inside Latvia. Once Latvia was sufficiently stretched, Russia removed his fingers for the last time, muttering "_good boy_" and rubbing his back.

He poured more lotion into his hand, this time covering the plug part of the tail. With great care, Russia slid it inside Latvia, free hand squeezing his ass. Latvia shivered at the feeling of cool plastic pressing against his walls, the dull ache nearly forgotten when Russia pushed him off his lap. "There you are! A cute little puppy!"

Latvia got onto all fours, looking behind him to see a perky little tail. It was cute, the color a perfect match for the mitts he was wearing, and when he shook it was as if the tail was wagging. It made him feel more playful and carefree, like he _was_ the puppy he was pretending to be. Like he wasn't a constantly worrying nation that looked too young to have an alcohol dependency, but was instead a shy little puppy that loved to be coddled by his master. It was refreshing and consoling, the little boost of courage required for him to try barking. The sound was more of a yip than a bark, very puppy-like in nature, but it was more honest and true than words could be.

Russia chuckled, lowering his hand to the bulge in his lap, and for the first time Latvia noticed that Russia was hard. A flush rose to Latvia's cheeks as he watched Russia massage himself, reminding him that he was still rather hard as well. "Does Latvia want to help his master?" Latvia gaped, offering a meek nod and shuffling closer. Russia's smile took on a sharp edge as he unzipped his pants, pulling down the elastic of his underwear and letting his cock out. It was, for lack of a better word, _huge_. Like every other part of Russia, his dick was big, and Latvia was certain he wouldn't be able to fit it in his mouth. He fidgeted nervously, unsure of what to do, but Russia's hand found his head again, softly petting him in a reassuring gesture. Latvia fought to calm the rapid beating of his heart. Russia had done his best to be gentle with Latvia up until now, and that hadn't changed. He knew Russia wasn't going to intentionally hurt him, and he distantly wondered if that was the sort of mutual trust all pets had with their owners. With that thought in mind, Latvia leaned forward, dragging his tongue up the length of his erection. Russia grunted, the hand in Latvia's hair tightening a bit before letting go, running his fingers through the blond hair in encouragement. Latvia continued, this time lapping at the head, short little licks that made Russia mutter and groan. Feeling a bit more confident, Latvia nuzzled Russia's dick, the action provoking a hiss of appreciation. From thereon out it was a litany of teasing licks and touches, and when Latvia saw the signs of Russia's approaching orgasm he sucked the head into his mouth, swirling his tongue around it and into the slit. It wasn't long before Russia let out a strained grunt, releasing into Latvia's waiting mouth. He did his best to swallow it, but even so he ended up choking a bit, semen dribbling down his chin and eyes watering.

Russia leaned forward, wiping away the liquid with his thumb and panting, "Good boy, Latvia. Good boy. Now let's be taking care of you too." Without another word, Russia reached down and began unbuckling the cuff around Latvia's cock, the relief almost as wonderful as the hand now jerking him off. It only took a few strokes for Latvia to come, a rush of exhaustion and satisfaction overtaking him. He laid his head on Russia's shoulder, jumping in surprise when Russia set about removing his binds. One by one they came off, straps, paws, ears, tail, and collar all removed and revealing the nation once again. Latvia's heart sank as reality settled in. He was a nation. A small, shivering, alcoholic nation.

Gloomily, Latvia set about gathering up his clothes, wincing at the pain in his backside as he slipped into his briefs and pants. Shirt fully buttoned, he headed to the door.

"Wait."

His hand froze on the handle, and Latvia nervously turned to Russia. "Mr. Russia?"

That ambiguous smile from before reappeared, speaking of a promise as Russia himself spoke, "Next week we'll start training. I'll teach you how to sit, stay, and lay down on command. Make sure you are prepared, _da_?"

Ever so slowly, a timid, brilliant smile broke out on Latvia's face. "Y-Yes, Mr. Russia! I will."

"Good boy."


End file.
